Fortuna Smiles
by Scatter Plot
Summary: [AU,DarkxRiku] Fate works in funny ways doesn't it? What started out as a simple chore turned out to be a meeting neither one of them would forget? But sometimes you can't rely on fate, if you want something you have to go get it yourself.
1. Laundry Room Fortune

**A/N: This is for a writing challenge, I'm not sure it's going to go anywhere, but I suppose that all depends on your reaction to it. I wanted it to have more of an American feel and it's completely AU. Some of the things in here your going to be like 'WTF?' but I promise it was all apart the challenge and had to be included. I just wanted to see if I could really pull it off and it was something to do while I attempt to cook up a sequel to 'When It's Easier to Forget'.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own DNAngel.**

Have you ever heard of serendipity, meetings of predetermination or destiny? Is it possible to believe that every person we meet we are bound to by a thin strand of fate? Maybe this is the answer to so many's question of why things that are so wrong feel so right, and how two people who seem completely opposite in every way can fall madly in love.

The small bell in the corner of the doorway chimed as I pushed open the glass door with my shoulder and staggered in with a plastic basket full of laundry. Relieving myself of the heavy burden dragging down my arms, I rested it ontop of the machine next to the one I intended to use and began sorting through the load.

The mat was pretty much vacant, which fortunately almost garunteed me a peaceful wait. I needed it because my mood was a bit gloomy and despite the mocking of the perfect day outside, inside I felt grey. A small television mounted in the corner of the room displayed the local news above a wall lined with vending machines. A colored man sat in a chair across the room from me, flipping through his newspaper as his clothes tumbled dry. Abruptly, the bell rang from behind and I glanced over my shoulder to see a young man stroll in bearing a white garbage sack overflowing with dirty laundry.

Returning my attention to my own pile of unclean clothing pending wash, I began tossing them into the machine. The man was now occupying the machine next to me and it was only a moments pass before I felt an unwelcome tap on my shoulder.

"I'm emabarassed to ask you this," he smiled rubbing the back of his neck, "but can I borrow some change for the machine?"

I paused, an article of clothing still in hand and turned to him skeptically. He was a couple of inches taller than me, lean with a thin frame and an untamed length of violet hair. He might have been a year or so older than me. His handsome face was flawless, topped with narrow eyes and a lady-killing grin. I instantly disliked him.

"Are you serious?"

"Oh come on," he pleaded with glossy, amethyst, puppy dog eyes that would have made Risa bawl.

"I'm in dire need here- out of underwear," he smirked pointing to the garment in my hand.

Blushing furiously, I peered down at the pair of laced, hot pink panties dangling from my fingertips. Dropping them immediately, I jamed my hands in my pockets and scavanged for change. Upon finding the coins I tossed them to him nervously and fixated on my own cleaning duties.

Once my cheeks regained their normal color, I glanced over to the man who was carelessly throwing his clothes into the washing machine. He slid his black tee shirt over his head, sniffed it, then tossed it in with the rest -_what mannerism_. After adding the detergent, he slammed the lid and hopped on top of the machine- ignoring the "Please, don't sit on the machines" sign.

And depsite my immediate annoyance of him, my eyes found their way wandering up his toned chest. They drank in every defined line and up, then down movement of his breath. As much as he got under my skin he was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"Like what you see?" he smirked. "What's you name cutie?"

"Why should I tell you, creep."

"Hey, no need for name calling."

"You started it," I retorted.

"Alright," he threw his hands up in a surrendering notion, "you have a point."

"Riku Harada," I answered, shutting the lid on my own machine.

"Cute name. Dark Mousy here."

Mad enough that the stranger now knew my name, I stomped over to an empty seat across from the machines and plopped down. Deciding that I had no desire

what-so-ever to carry on a conversastion with this man and with doubts that anything he had to say could possibly be intellegent, I picked up a magazine and began flipping away. It was a baby magazine, which was perfect because I needed to studying.

My twin sister Risa would be having a baby soon. In my opinion, giving birth to a child at 22 is far too young. Doesn't she realize how much of her prime she is going to miss out on because she chasing after a drooling tot? Don't get me wrong, I love kids and this is probably the best thing for Risa. My sister was always the queen of popularity and married the king right out of highschool. And now Mr. and Mrs. Azumano Highschool are expecting, but Risa was always the susy homemaker type anyhow. I couldn't see her having a real career, but then again I'm one to talk.

See the reason I was going to having to know everything there was to know about bringing a child into the world within the spand of 3 months was because Risa was actually expecting me to be the midwife. She hates hospitals and in her head she thinks it's all a big conspiracy, that they will take her beautiful baby or mix it up with another. Too many lifetime movies, if you ask me. I went to nursing school for a while, but eventually dropped out because I didn't think I could make it. Well now I'm a P.E. coach at Azumano Middle School, suits me no? I was always a tomboy and an underachiever.

Sighing boredly at the countless pages of smiling babies and mothers, I peered over the top of the magazine at Dark. He was still perched a top of the washing machine as it roared beneath him. He had a set of head phones on, bobbing his head as the cord connecting them and the MP3 player in his pocket swayed. My eyebrow twitched as I notice his exceptionally unrhythmic tapping on the side of the machine.

"Could you not do that?" I called politely.

His eyes shot open as removed his head gear, "I'm sorry what?"

"Could you please stop that tapping?"

"Oh, sure," he smiled, " I just really get into the music, you know."

"Hmm," I mused. I didn't really listen to music that much.

"Expecting a bundle of joy?" he asked curiously, gesturing to the article in my hand.

"No."

"Too bad you would have made an excellent mother," he smirked.

"My sister's the one having the baby!" I fumed.

His smirk widened as a playful light danced across his eyes, obviously relishing in my frustration. "You're so cute when your mad."

A deep chuckled rumbled in his throat. "Maybe one day I can have my wish and you can have my baby."

The fuse had been lit. "PERVERT!" I shouted hurling the magazine into his face, startling the old man at the other end of the building.

"I was just kidding."

You're so immature," I heaved.

"I'm immature?" he pointed to himself. "I'm not the one throwing temper tantrums."

"You're right," I sighed, regaining compuser," and I'm going to be the grown up now and end this."

"Aw, you're no fun," he winked, sticking his tounge out.

Ignoring him, I strolled over to machine just as the cycle ended. Removing sopping handfuls of clothing from the washer, I tossed them into the basket and continued to the wall of steel dryers. His eyes followed me blankly as I moved from one end of the room to another, and if I didn't know any better I could have swore I saw his lips pout.

The remainder of my visit at the laundry was pretty much lived out in peace. The room was silent, all but the low murmur of the T.V. and the ticking hands of the clock hanging on the wall. I occupied my time by staring at the endless tumbles of the dryer in a trance-like daze. Dark ambled over to the snack machine to once to withdraw a box of pocky. As he slid the coins into the slot, I tossed him an angry glare.

"You had money!"

"I just wanted an excuse to talk to you," he offered me a lopsided grin.

Shoving a chocolate covered stick in his mouth, he shifted back to his seat.

And then it came! The sweet buzz announcing that the machine's job was done, I had been longing to hear it for sometime now. My hands worked swiftly to remove the clothes and fold them into neat piles back into the basket. Lifting it up, I headed for the door and just as I was about to push it open with my foot, I heard the last thing I wanted to hear.

"See you around, cutie."

"See you, Mr. Mousy," I peered over my shoulder and smiled.

Why did I do that?

And even though it would seem so easy to round it off as one of the worst days of my life, I left that luandry mat feeling alot brighter than when I had walked in. Maybe in his own odd way he had sensed my unhappiness and his teasing was a twisted way to cheer me up. It was a reasonable explanation, why else would you just randomly reach out to a stranger? Than again I'm probably giving him too much credit. Maybe it was fate. Also a reasonable explanation considering the events that followed...

**a/n: And there you have it! It's a little different from me I know. It was hard getting into Riku's head, but 1st POV seemed more fitting then 3rd. **


	2. Apartment Hades

**A/n: I wanted to start of by saying thanks to Lady Lithe for her review and saying she respected my story. That means a lot to me seeing how popular, beloved and respected she is in the DNAngel fandom. I understand that DNAngel fics tend to be a bit shallow and I want to stray away from that. **

**Thanks to the rest of you as well. I hope you enjoy the rest of 'Fortuna Smiles'. And I'd like to apologize for my numerous grammatical errors…I'm working on it I promise . Remember mind the cheesiness. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own D.N.Angel**

"Here we go," I sighed before knocking on my sister's door.

I know it sounds appalling, but I hate, absolutely hate visiting Risa. In fact, I probably wouldn't have been there if I wasn't delivering the baby stroller I had ordered for her. I braced my self as the doorknob turned.

"Riku!" Risa greeted cheerfully.

She wrapped her arms around me in a hug in which she knocked the breath out of me with her protruding belly, causing me to drop the stroller. Smiling I backed away to retrieve the item, secretly giving thanks for air.

"It's good to see you too. I brought you the baby stroller you wanted."

She gave odd squeal and gestured for me to come inside. Pushing my chin length hair behind my ears I complied…reluctantly.

Inside was as tidy as ever causing me to blush wishing my apartment was as clean. Risa buzzed around like bee on crack, fluffing throw pillows and such as I set the stroller down by the door. The place was perfect; I had no idea what her problem was. The walls were a cream color with matching couch and carpet, adorned with gold and scarlet pillows and drapes. Did I mention it was spotless? A baby would tear this place apart in seconds.

"I'll got get Toji and then fix some tea," she smiled heading for the back room.

"No need, I don't plan to stay long."

That was what I hoped anyway, but coming into this place was like getting trapped in a spider's web; they'd never let you out. That's right Risa was in for the kill.

"Sit down silly," she waved before disappearing.

Settling down I on the couch I waited her to come back with the husband.

She returned moments later with the infamous Toji- god save me. He smiled running his fingers through his flawless jet black hair before it settled perfectly back into place.

"Good to see you again, Riku," he flashed his pearly teeth before wrapping his arms around Risa's shoulders.

Ugh, could he be anymore obnoxious! He was tall, dark, handsome; athletic and rich to boot- plus he married Risa. It was like looking at freaking Barbie and Ken. I know jealousy isn't very becoming, but you have to admit they'd make your stomach churn. I hated them all through high school and probably would until I found a Ken of my own. It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't have to rub in my face!

"Something wonderful happened to Toji at work today, tell her all about it," Risa giggled.

Dammit! Like _he _needed an excuse to talk. It was settled then; I'd be here for hours. I probably should have let Risa fix that tea, because Toji carried on _forever_ about how much money he was making, how wonderful it was and how he was going to send his children to the best college. The moment he stopped for breath I took liberty of it as an opportunity to escape.

"Well I better be going!" I piped up quickly.

"But-" Risa protested.

"No, no, no I must," I headed for the door "lot's of work to do."

RELIEF! The moment the door shut I rushed down the hall and toward freedom. Looking over my shoulder I pondered over the next time I would have to venture into that hell hole.

Don't get me wrong, I love my sister and I'm there for her when she needs me. I just can't stand him or when they're together. That's probably the reason she always tried to get me to stay longer, because I only come there when I have to. I wish I could spend more time with Risa, but there's some prices I'm just not willing to pay.

It was almost impossible to go over there without hearing "So Riku when are you going to find a man" or "Don't you think it's time to settle down. You're not getting any younger". If settling down meant living like those two, I would die single. Besides I was plenty young, they were the two that were going to end up divorced and with a pile of kids. Nope that's one personal hell I would avoid.

Finding a man would be nice, but I was in no hurry to pounce on the idea of marriage.

Lady Romantica was obviously avoiding me.

**A/n: sorry about the um…shortness. **


	3. Games Of Chance

**A/N: Honestly folks, I had given up hope on this story. But I thought with my other story completed why not pick it back up again? I hope you are all still interested in it and that I haven't lost the mine set of 22 year old Riku Harada.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own D N Angel or Lifetime, Barbie, Friends or whatever other refrerences appear in this story.**

Time is a precious thing and when you don't have much of it to spare it flies right on by. See when your an aging adult and two months just pass by without you noticing- you worry. What was I doing all this time? Well when you have no social life of your own, you tend to drown yourself in work. I know what your thinking : How much work could a junior high P.E. coach have? Well I took the liberty to be a chaperon at all of the school functions. That's right, everything from bake sales to dances. At the time I was quite possibly the uncoolest twenty-two year old on the planet. Risa was having more fun then me and she was eight and a half months pregnant.

It was a Sunday afternoon and I spent it the same way I do most Sundays- doing laundry. My hygienic rituals were performed at my usual luandry mat, which I loved because it was cheap and fairly secluded. Unfortunately, the place wasn't as tenantless as I hoped. A tired, brunette woman was wrestling with a rather unruly child beside me and a young couple were occupying eachother in one of the far corners. None the less, the chore had to be completed.

As I began loading the machine the brass bell above the entrance chimed and as human nature would have it, everyone in the buidling turned to see who was passing through the glass door. It was only with my luck that it would be the same offensive man that I had met in this very laundry mat just months ago. Amethyst eyes surveyed the room and spotted me quickly. Dropping his sack of dirty clothes infront of the machine next to me, he turned and smiled at me cheekliy.

I could hear the woman to my left whisper "beautiful" under her breat before turning away with a slight blush. The couple in the corner just shrugged and continued their make-out session. Had the heavens really moved in such a way as to bring this idiotic excuse of a man back into my life? We shared the same laundry place- it was bound to happen eventually, right?

"Hello again," he smirked, turning the dials of the machine before lifting its lid.

"I don't have any change for you today," I grumbled tossing in a pair of socks.

"No need," he brushed back a stray strand of plum colored hair, "we're already acquainted, right Riku."

"Well normally your acquainted with someone _before _you mooch their change," I paused just short shutting the top of the machine. "You remembered my name?"

"Of course I did!" he chuckled, emptying the whole bag of clothes into the washer. "You didn't think I'd go through all that trouble just to forget it?"

"Hm, aren't you suppose to sort those first?" I gestured curiously toward the machine which he had just recklessly dumped his entire wardrobe into.

"No point really," he shrugged, "all my clothes are pretty much the same color."

Peering over, I realized just how right he was. The machine was filled to the rim with attire that was indeed all one color- black. _How drab_ I thought, resting back on my heels. This guy obviously didn't know how to shop.

Deciding that was enough fraternizing with enemy, I ambled over toward the line of chairs and plopped down. After a few dull moments, my eyes began to study Dark as he continued loading the machine and later folowed my suit toward the chairs. He really was a strange man, whom my mind could not begin to comprehend. Yet there was something oddly alluring about him- other than his good looks, I mean. He had charisma that I had never seen in another man and soon found myself indulging in conversation with him.

"You're an art student?" my eyes narrowed skeptically.

"It's true," he nodded, " see I took a few years off after highschool until I decided what I really loved, which happend to be art."

"I never would I guessed," I ran a smooth hand through my hair absent-mindedly.

"Why not?" he inquired.

"You just don't seem that sophisticated," I choked nervously. Damn his eyes were intense.

"Well your not exactly the charmer yourself," he laughed just as the machines buzzed.

My cheeks went hot as he rose from his seat. I couldn't believe I just insulted him like that, now I was the obnoxious one. I followed tediously behind him, searching for any sign that he might be offended. Furrowing my brow, I realized that he didn't seem to be too upset. Maybe he was really as dense as I thought.

By the time I was done reloading the drier, Dark was already back in his seat humming with his MP3 player. Sighing, I melted down into the plastic chair. I felt so uncultured next to him like that. Why didn't I listen to music or study paintings? I knew what art was right? What the hell was I wasting my time doing?

In so many ways I was jealous of him. How could he sit there and smile like that? Didn't he have worries, resposibilities or even bills? Though it was evident that he was at least 2 or 3 years older than me, his nature was innocent and playful. There wasn't single wrinkle or anxiety line on his youthful face.

"It's alright you know," he closed his eyes, still bobbing his head to the music."I'm not mad; your intitled to your opinion."

My jaw hinged slightly, how could he tell I was upset? Now I was even more embarassed than before. What was with this guy? I considered myself a pretty collected girl, but this Dark Mousy character just managed to get right under my skin. How did he do this to me? Just as I was about to apologize, his eyes opened and a smirk snaked its way across his features.

"Besides how could I not forgive you?" he winked,"You're just so cute."

"Are you kidding me!" My mouth shot off before my mind could catch up, "I don't give a damn if I hurt your feelings or not, because you more than deserved it."

He just blinked at me from behind wine colored eyes, seemingly unfrazzled.I had every reason to fall over right then and there. Bombs could be dropping right outside this guys front door and he wouldn't even notice. After that last on slaught of raged, I figured that he'd run away sniveling like other men. Oh but it had become more than clear that Dark was not like other men.

By this point I was peering down at the floor in shame. As much as I accused him of being child-like, here I was out bursting like a 4-year-old. I knew better then to behave that way, I was an adult dammit! Once again, he managed to make me look like a complete fool.

"So what kind of music do you listen to?" Dark smiled, pulling the mini speakers out of his ears.

Surpised, I quirked my head up to stare at him. "Um, I don't listen to music much," I replied simply.

"Well here listen to this," he said passing the headphones my way.

My brain instantly searched it's cabinets for knowledge of any disease that could be spread through the sharing of earwax, but found none. Risking the deadly infection, I decided to have a listen. I was just complaining about not being refined anyway. Why not start learning now?

"It's jazz," I heard him explain as I slipped the pieces into my ears.

_Jazz?_ I mused briefly. He was definately more intricate than I thought.

The sound that poured from the tiny machine was like melodic heaven. It slipped past ever doubt and wall that I had cast up, then right into my soul. I felt myself sooth and relax under its beat. The tenseness that I felt next to Dark vanishing with every saxaphone riff. It was like listening to romance. Is this what I had been missing? What I had traded for T.V. dinners and "Friends" reruns? My eyes had suddenly opened to the life I should have had.

"You like?" he pressed.

"Absolutely," I breathed, disengaging the speakers and slipping them back into his open palm.

"I know that band and they are going to be in town this Saturday," his expression brightened, "if you'd like to go to the concert with me?"

"I don't think so," I gathered myself out of the chair, "but thanks for the offer."

"Aw, why not?" his bottom lip pouted.

"Because," I bent down to pick up the laundry basket and headed toward the drier, " I'd like our relationship to stay strickly errand related."

"That's not fair," he followed me over to the tumbling machine, " I'm really a nice guy."

Gathering all my belongings into the hamper, I shut the drier door with my shoulder. "I guess I'll never know," I smiled weakly.

So I left Dark standing there, rejection heavy in the air. It was a relief to be outside the building and away from his penetrating presence. But I wasn't nearly as safe as I thought I was, because what I didn't know was: Dark Mousy always got what he wanted.

**a/n: ah ((cries)) It sucks!**


	4. All That Jazz

**A/N: I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, I didn't want to write this chapter. It was inteded to be very long and I've found myself unable to get through it. So you'll notice that it cuts off rather abruptly at the end and that's because I thought "Shit, I'm never gonna get through this. Oh well, might as well post what I have."**

**This story is going to go on what I hope is temporary hiatus. Leave some encouraging reviews, so maybe I can pick the story back up sooner. To all my fans, I'm terriably sorry about the total crap that is chapter 4.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own D N Angel.**

Why does the telephone always ring at the most inconvenient of times? What good are the damn thing anyway? They just make you lazy. I think we should all go back to writing letters. Boy, would that kill Risa.

"Hello?" I answered through an exhale, failing to disguise my panted breath.

My feet shifted anxiously in the growing pool of water around them at the delayed reply. The truth is that I had just sprinted out of the shower at the sound of the phone and was standing in the middle of the living room sopping wet like an idiot. See why I hate phones?

"Ms. Harada?" my grip tightened around the towel across my chest at the unfamiliar male voice.

"Yes?"

"It's Dark Mousy, we met at the laundry place," the voice on the other end announced smoothly.

"D-dark?" It took a moment for my thoughts to recoup," I don't remember giving you my number."

"No, but you did tell me your name," he laughed. "Lucky for me, there's this thing called a phone book."

"Well that doesn't give you the right to call," I immediately took the defense.

"With the way you ran out of there so fast, I was afraid I may not see you again," he justified.

"Oh really?" I began twirling the phone cord around my finger absent-mindedly, taking more interest in Dark's intentions. "And was seeing me again _that_ important?"

"Of course," I could pratically hear the smirk that was undoubtedly forming across his lips, " did you really think I'd let a gorgeous girl like you slip through my fingers?"

A small sound of irritation escaped my throat as I attempted to quell my anger. After all, shouting was bad phone etiquette. But in his own stalker-ish way, Dark Mousy was rather charming. The pure astonishment that a beautiful man was actually hitting on _me_ was gradually getting the better of me, tempting me to humor the playboy. "And?"

"And I thought I could possibly change your mind about that date," he supplied.

"Tonight?" I shook my hand furiously, trying to untangle it from the cord.

"Unless you have other plans?" his voice never faltered."Come on, I'll even have you home by eleven if you want."

I glanced over my shoulder at my unmarked calander. "You're lucky; tonight's the only free night I have."

"Great," he cheered calmly. " Where should I pick you up?"

"Hm," I bit back on my bottom lip. It's true that I'm rather reserved, but Dark's determination wasn't exactly in the norm. Most guys would shrug of there loss and move on to another girl. Why was he so set on me? I don't know much about stalkers,murders or rapist, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. Okay, maybe I'm the one who's been watching too many _Lifetime _movies.

"I'm not so sure I'm too comfortable with you knowing where I live just yet. How about I meet you infront of the laundry mat?"

"I guess I am a little forward," he chuckled softly, "but if that's what you want. I'll see you there at eight."

"It's a date," I added with sugarcoat of mock cheeriness.

"Til then."

"Bye."

"Good bye."

_What a sleeze _I thought, resting the phone back into its cradle. Oh well, if the guy was that driven to see me again the least I could do is give him a chance. Whiping my brow with a sigh, I realized how wet and clammy it was. _SHIT! _I panicked in mad rush back toward the shower. I only had an hour to get ready.

The sound of my heels clicking along the pavement only brought to my attention how ungraceful my steps really were. The thought of me in high heels was foreign and slightly atrocious in itself. It's true it had been quite sometime since my last date, leaving the fancy footwear without much use. Somehow with every date I'd been on, I'd managed to pick out all these unpleasant traits about my companion and various other reasons why we shouldn't be together. Or to put it simply: "Hi my name's Riku Harada and I'm completely terrified of a commitment of any kind, because I'm afraid it my incovience my life?"

Rounding the corner, I found Dark leaning casually against the laundry building window. He was dressed in black slacks with a ebony button up collar shirt, accented by recently polished dress shoes. I can't say I was in the least bit surpised, coming from a guy with a single colored wardrobe.

It looked as if he had made some effort to tame his multi-lengthed lilac tresses...and failed miserably. Yet the unruly mass seemed to fit him, elegantly framing his slender face. I couldn't imagine him with a clean cut hairstyle; it wouldn't suit his free spirit.

Smiling, he pushed himself from the window using his heel and strolled my way. His mauve eyes danced to life upon settling on me and I found myself blushing under their intense stare.

"Wow," he murmed airily.

"What?" I blinked.

"You look-"

"Different?" I interrupted.

"Yeah," he grinned, " considering I haven't seen you in anything other than sweat pants."

"Hey I was doing laundry!" I defended.

"It's okay," he took my hand," you don't need to explain. You look lovely either way."

And there was that damn blush! Suddenly I felt like a school girl; a place I certainly didn't want to be again. I shouldn't be so unsettled by this. It wasn't like I was _trying_ to impress him. I definately wasn't a supermodel and this guy was laying on the cheese mighty thick. But even through all the cheesy lines and goofy grins, he still managed to be sauve.

Concluding that I worry too much, my grip firmed along his palm as he lead me toward his car. Glancing briefly into his wine colored eyes, I was reassured that if anything it was garunteed to be an interesting evening. Cautious Riku Harada would just have to wait at the door.

Stepping into the club- labeled the _Blue Note-_ was like an attack of the senses, because I was immediately hit with the bitter scent of booze and enticing tunes of jazz. Over all the outline of the place was set up like any other typical club, yet still managed to be quaint. Large blue musical notes where painted across the walls leading up to the stage where the band was performing, busy entertaining the crowd of dancers before them. The wooden dance floor appeared as if it had been freshly polished, only scathed with a few minor scuff of the shoes. To the back were a group of round tables where the less intrepid sat, bobbing their heads and sipping their drinks. Along the right wall was the bar, where most of the singles seemed to sit and mingle. The room was dimly lit with a few fluorescent blue lights, giving the place a mood all its own.

I didn't realize that I'd been gaping until Dark's hand on the small of my back ushered me out of my brief reverie. He chuckled amusedly at my surprise and led me out unto the dance floor. By now my cheeks were red and his snickering had evolved to all out laughter at the awkwardness of my steps.

"You're thinking too much," he critqued.

"Well if that is isn't the oddest insult I've ever receive," I breathed sarcastically.

"It wasn't an insult," he swiftly adopted a serious facade. "Just listen to the music and follow me."

There was never a doubt in my mind that Dark was a great dancer. It was just one of those things that seemed to radiate off him and you just assumed that the trait came with the whole alluring package. But I'm not sure the word "great" does him justice. No, Dark Mousy was a marvelous dancer.

His moves were fluid, elegant and easy to follow. Every twist of the hips and turn of foot was perfectly in sync with the music, and God help me if he didn't look absolutely delicious doing it. But all those thoughts were at the back of my mind at the time. The only thing I could focus on were his eyes; they never left mine. Two amethyst orbs burning or even searching for something within my own. I felt a bit uneasy, a bit excited. Truth is: my heart was racing.

I'm not sure when we stopped moving. The band had stopped playing, taking a short intermission. All I know is that we were still standing in the middle of the floor, eyes locked in an unyielding stare. The world had paused and I didn't care. And then it happend, he smiled and the spell broke. My ears were suddenly filled with the cacophony of ice shifting in glasses and bustling conversation.

"What?" I murmered dazedly, curious as to why he was grinning at me like an idiot.

"You're a much better dancer than I expected."

**A/n: I still feel as if I've lost Riku's character. Any suggestions?**


End file.
